So, I’ve started riding my exercise bike. I’ve got one of those reclining bike things that you can read a magazine or a book on while you pedal away to your heart’s content, or your legs give out. Whichever happens first.
I’m a big fan of personal growth books. I love to read books about relationships, money matters, etc. And yesterday, I just happened to pick up the Love Smart book by Dr. Phil. Of course, I’m not really looking for a new relationship. I’m quite content with the one I’ve got, but the last couple of chapters are about how to keep your relationship from becoming stagnant.
I’m reading through the chapter and one of the techniques he lists for keeping your relationship healthy is to write love notes to each other. Okay. Seems like a good idea to me. I haven’t been cheesy and done something like write a love note in years.
So, I whip out my pen and paper and write something up real quick. I have to go into work and we’ve planned to bbq later in the evening so I leave the note with his name on it and smiley faces on it on top of the bbq stuff and later head to work.
He comes to meet me at work, thanks me for the note, calls me “SuperCheese” and we head home.
We start getting the stuff ready to bbq and something catches my eye on the ceiling. It’s a HUGE bug. South Louisiana doesn’t have regular size bugs, they have these things that look like they belong on a sci-fi movie. It looks big enough to grab up a chair and join us at the table. It looks like something Ian will have to take a bat to to get rid of.
“Kill it, Ian!” I tell him.
He reaches on the counter, grabs the love note I’ve written him and begins to try to kill this predator that has taken up residence on our ceiling.
I’m looking at him like he’s lost his mind. He kills the bug, and looks at me triumphantly.
“What?” he looks at me, his smile fading as he realizes I’m unhappy.
“You used my letter to kill that bug.”
“And? What else was I supposed to use?”
I look down at the sandals I had discarded as I’d entered the house. “How about a shoe?”
“I can’t win with you, can I?”
I look at him, THAT look still on my face.
“Ugh, Alisha, stop being such a…a…a….WOMAN!”
Now, I can’t do anything but laugh. What else was I supposed to be?
I guess it’s true. Men really are from Mars and women are really from Venus.
He was happy to be the hero, to save me from the evil creature on the ceiling. I was upset because of his use of weapon. How many times has this scenario played out over the centuries?
Caveman: “Man bring home sabertooth tiger for family. Food.”
Cavewoman: “Did you really have to kill it that way? Poor thing. Did it suffer?”
Knight: “I’ve come to rescue you fair maiden, from the enemy.”
Fair Maiden (as she looks around at the fallen captors around her): “You expect me to walk through that?”
20th Century Fisherman to Girlfriend: “Okay now. Reel the fish in reallll slow.”
Girlfriend reels in the fish real slow, gets it to the bank. “Throw it back.”
Girlfriend: “Throw it back. He looks like he’s suffering.”
See what I mean?
Something tells me things aren’t likely to change anytime soon either. 🙂